


A Day In The Life

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A typical day in King's Landing for Stannis Baratheon. Set a couple of years before AGoT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day In The Life

It seemed as if he had spent most of the night lying awake. He did not remember sleeping or dreaming, although he supposed he must have or else his mind and body would be racked by tiredness now. Nonetheless, he was awake when the rosters began to crow and when the sky lightened. There was no use lying abed further.

Stannis rose and began the day.

His morning routine was complete and he was already fully dressed by the time his manservant and his squire stumbled bleary-eyed and yawning into his bed chamber. Customarily he had his morning meal brought to him, but today he decided to break his fast in the hall. Robert was away hunting in the kingswood - something he did more and more often these days - and the hall would be less boisterous with so many gone.

He found Jon Arryn dining alone at the high table – likely avoiding the company of his lady wife and his ill-mannered son. As he took the seat beside him, Stannis thought briefly of his own lady wife, Selyse. It’d been nearly half a year since he’d last seen her. He would need to make a visit to Dragonstone soon; after all, he would never get a son if he did not see the woman some time. He grimaced at the thought and took a sip of unsweetened lemon water.

Well, going home would not be _all_ bad. He would also see Shireen. His daughter was a good girl, though the sight of her disfigured face ever saddened him. He felt some guilt for not seeing her more often, but he knew that Maester Cressen was far better at guiding and comforting a child than he would ever be. It would be good to see the old maester too. Maester Cressen was dearer to him than his own grandsire.

“Robert is not returning today after all,” Arryn said. “There was a raven from him. A particularly large boar escaped him and he writes that he will not return without it.” He sounded disappointed.

Stannis had never enjoyed the sport of hunting. “Robert never settles for less than triumph.” It was a pity his brother chose to squander his potential pursuing petty pleasures instead of administering his kingdom.

“It is Prince Tommen’s name day today.”

Stannis wondered whether Robert had forgotten or whether he simply did not care. Tommen was the second son, not the firstborn, not the heir. “He will come back with gifts and the boy will forget.”

“Cersei will not forget, and Robert will agree to something Tywin Lannister wants in order to appease her.”

Some days Stannis wondered why Robert had not named Lord Tywin his Hand and be done with it. The king had long since emptied the royal treasury and was now spending his way deeper into the Lannisters’ debt. Robert might love Jon Arryn as a foster father but he rarely heeded his advice as Hand of the King.

They finished their meal and walked to the Small Council meeting room in companionable silence. Varys and Littlefinger were already there, insincere smiles plastered on their faces. Stannis did not know which of the two he found more detestable; were it up to him, both their heads would have adorned the castle wall a long time ago.

Grand Maester Pycelle came next, his chains clinking and his robes flapping as he somehow managed to seem hurried despite moving at a snail’s pace. The grand maester was not as objectionable as the eunuch and Baelish, but it was obvious he served the Lannisters, not the realm as was his duty.

Finally, after they had all been seated, Renly strolled in. Stannis gritted his teeth. His younger brother was a man now but he still acted like a boy. He was always the last to arrive – no doubt to ensure everyone paid him attention and Littlefinger could compliment his overly fancy new doublet. 

“My lords,” Varys began, in that unctuous tone of his, “I’m afraid His Grace will not be joining us today.”

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Renly retorted.

Varys tittered. “ _Something_? But there are so many things…where should I begin?”

“Begin with the most important,” Jon Arryn instructed, sounding as un-amused as Stannis.

As Varys delivered his report, Stannis found himself wondering again how the Spider knew all that he knew. How could he be privy to conversations that had occurred between two people in an otherwise empty room? He had an image of spies all resembling Varys peeping from tiny holes in the walls and ceiling. No wonder he could not sleep here.

He exited quickly when the meeting was over, however Renly caught up to him and began to walk beside him. “Brother, you seem tense today. More so than usual, I should say.”

“I am fine.”

Renly blathered on as if he had not spoken. “Do you miss dear Selyse…or do you miss the company of your onion knight?”

“You would have starved death to death if not for my onion knight, you ungrateful whelp.”

He should not have snapped, but Renly did not take offense. He laughed lightly and carried on, “Oh, I am very grateful to Ser Davos for his onions…and for providing my prickly brother with a friend.”

Friend. Robert had many friends, and they all seemed to want something from the king. Stannis did not need friends. Davos was his loyal man; Stannis could rely on him, trust him, and even talk to him. Davos never asked favors of him and he always listened without offering platitudes.

Finally Renly tired of amusing himself and grew serious. “Mace Tyrell wants me to take his youngest boy as my squire.”

Tyrell was trying to insinuate himself as close to the crown as possible. He might have offered his son to squire for the king, but Cersei made sure Robert had a steady stream of lesser Lannisters to polish his armor and serve his wine, and everyone knew it. Stannis hated such obvious toadying but it would not be bad to have a counter to the over-abundance of Lannisters.

“Will you?”

“The boy is very skilled with lance and sword. Far better than me, truth be told. He is the apple of his father’s eye and he knows it. He is not a shy lad.”

Stannis was reminded of Robert. “What is this boy’s name?”

“Loras. I have a squire and I do not need another, but I don’t want to offend Mace by refusing. Highgarden’s treasury is smaller only than Casterly Rock’s.”

“Then take the boy. You and he should get along very well, from what you’ve said of him.”

“Why, brother, I believe you think I’m a vain, conceited little prick too!”

Stannis said nothing.

“You are too amusing for such a dour fellow.” Renly clapped him on the shoulder and sauntered away. “Farewell until tomorrow.”

The quiet of Dragonstone seemed more and more appealing. Stannis decided he _would_ go home for a week or two.

He spent the afternoon examining the city walls. They were still sturdy despite their age, but the waterfront gates had begun to rust. They would have to be replaced. It would be expensive and require another loan from Tywin Lannister – or perhaps Mace Tyrell – but it was a better use of money than yet another tourney for the king’s amusement.

On his way back to the Red Keep he took the route that led through the marketplace. “Pick out something suitable for a small boy,” he instructed his squire.

The boy seemed disappointed when Stannis took the toy ship from him, but he was far too old for toys and surely he knew the lord he served better than to think Stannis meant to buy him a toy. Stannis examined the ship. It was a well-made model of a war drummond, and the seller swore it would float so a boy could watch it sail.

There was a subdued feast in the hall in Maegor’s Holdfast that evening so courtiers – the ones who hadn’t gone hunting with Robert - could shower attention on Prince Tommen. Stannis attended only because it was expected of him as the boy’s uncle. He presented his gift to the child and awkwardly endured an embrace of gratitude. Tommen was a good boy – he had not cut open any cats so far, which was more than could be said for his older brother, the heir to the throne.

He took his leave early and retired to the solitude of his chambers. He was not tired and would not be able to sleep. Stannis sat at his desk and put pen to parchment and began to write home. Ser Davos could not read, but Maester Cressen would read Stannis’s letter to him.


End file.
